


Doomed

by GaleWrites



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Blatantly using my theories to fill in holes, Content from comic, Filling in Blanks, Gen, Introspection, connecting the dots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleWrites/pseuds/GaleWrites
Summary: How did the former Hunter end up on that clocktower in Old Yharnam, with only one friend to aid him?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Doomed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fayharley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayharley/gifts).



> The Child (Djura's nibling) is yanked directly from the Bloodborne comic 'The Death of Sleep', but no knowledge of the comic is needed to understand the story.

Djura had always known that everything had a cost. 

As the heir to a banking family, he’d learned that lesson early and hard. Everyone and everything had a cost. Some people wanted money, some wanted respect or sex or power, some people, as his father very scathingly told him and his sister Sabine one day, wanted ‘to be heroes.’

Both of them were pretty sure he’d intended them to take a very different lesson from that speech, but they were as alike to each other as they were different from their money obsessed family. At that point, Sabine had been fifteen and Djura only twelve, and their father must have thought he could still get through at least to his son.

By then, his sister had already joined the Healing Church, a calling respectable enough for their family while ‘heroic’ enough for his sister’s teenaged ambitions to save the world. Back then, none of them had known it would ever really need saving. 

Djura himself had never been pious enough for the church, even if he hadn’t been earmarked to take over the bank. He dreamed of leaving Yharnam entirely and going on adventures to the hinterlands and beyond, fighting the odd creatures rumored to exist out there and possibly even finding the ruins of Loran or someplace even more fantastical. 

And in a twisted sort of way, he got his wish. He did not leave Yharnam, of course, but the beast plague came and needed everyone willing and able to help contain it. For a while, he and his sister fought side by side like they’d dreamed of, and despite the blood and pain the world felt full of promise and adventure.   
  
The two of them were, along with so many others, invincible, rising from the dream over and over like the old stories of demigods. It was a heady, golden time, and Djura would always remember it as the best part of his life.

The costs of that time proved too much for any man to bear.

The first of it was his sister. She came to him, white with fear, uncertain of what the Dream and the frequent deaths of a hunter would do to the child growing inside her. Gehrman had no answers for them, the Church elders she had asked could not answer, and Sabine reluctantly withdrew from the Hunt to take on a less dangerous role. She was, however, still tied to the dream, and when her child was born, they found that the tie had transferred to the child.

Still, foolishly, Djura and Sabine hoped beyond hope that this was the worst of it. The idea of a child being tied to the hunt was less than ideal, but one who could not be killed by the roaming beasts might be a blessing in disguise, in the face of the rapidly escalating beast plague.

Djura’s true reckoning came later, when the child was old enough to walk and talk and start to understand why they never slept. More and more of Yharnam fell to the beasts, particularly in the poorer areas. The farms and villages on the edge of town were largely uninhabitable, and most of Old Yharnam was entirely reliant on medicine created by the church to fight the poison in their blood.

Djura had left the church for the Powderkegs, hoping that their more extreme methods might be able to make a difference where the Church could not. He fought and developed more and more elaborate weapons, things that anyone could use to hold back even a group of beasts. He worked himself so hard he forgot how little hope he had left.

When the night they had all been dreading finally arrived, it seemed like a breath of fresh air. The moon was full and bright, the sky was clear, and for once the streets were quiet and calm. Djura and his allies took the opportunity to rest a bit, make plans for the future. Their task seemed so much less impossible without the screams and roars in the air.

This was the last peace Djura would ever know.

The horrors of that night were innumerable. Djura watched dozens of his friends and comrades fall to the beasts or to their own blood madness. He saw men become beasts and beasts become nightmare, and when the highest ranking survivor finally suggested they burn the district, neither Djura nor any of the others had the energy or faith to argue.

Instead, he dutifully helped set torches to buildings, taking for himself a route that would hopefully allow him to reach his sister’s home to get her family to safety. They were not beasts, after all. Or so he thought.

By the time he’d fought and burned his way there, the smoke was thick in the air and the screams of man and beast almost drowned out the cries for help in a familiar young voice. Djura bashed his way into the house, only to find a huge beast standing over the remains of his brother in law, his nibling in the corner screaming for help.

He saw the tattered remains of Sabine’s church clothes, but it wasn’t until later, when he and his nibling woke up in the Dream together after getting caught in the smoke and flames, that he was able to register that the large, doglike creature must be all that was left of Sabine.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Djura’s nibling loved the Dream, something that he was thankful for at the moment. In their delight at being in the beautiful garden, the only place they were safe to play outside freely, they forgot or ignored for the moment how and why they were there now. Djura had a moment to sit and process, which he desperately needed. 

“Good Hunter, you seem troubled.” The Doll said, settling next to him and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I suppose I am.” Djura agreed, rubbing his temples. “This will be remembered as the night Yharnam truly fell.”

The Doll didn’t really have it in her to look alarmed, but she came close all the same. “Whatever do you mean? We have seen nothing unusual here.”

“Old Yharnam is burning. It was completely overrun… We didn’t know what else to do to protect the rest of the city. Do you mean to tell me none of my fellow hunters in that fight made it here?”

The Doll shook her head. “If they did, they did not stay long enough to tell us of their battle.”

Djura shook his head. “So many of them fell tonight. You would have noticed. But… if they didn’t end up here, and they never came back… Where?”

The Doll put a concerned hand on his shoulder. “There is much we still do not understand about this place. They may yet return.”

“Perhaps.” Djura replied, but in his gut he was certain that they would not. He couldn’t say what had happened, but something horrific had occurred that night, even more than they yet knew. He dreaded finding the answer to this particular question.

“But what of you?” The Doll asked gently. “The two of you made it here, and will be able to return. What will you do?”

  
He sighed. “I am a Hunter. What else can I do? The rest of the city still needs protecting. But this is no place for a child. I will have to see about sending them to safety.”

She nodded gracefully, concern on her face. "Perhaps Sabine-"

"No." Djura interrupted, his voice tight. "Sabine will not be able to help anyone anymore."

"I am sorry for your loss." The Doll replied simply, squeezing his shoulder in silent sympathy.

"Would you mind terribly if I left them here with you?" Djura asked, nodding at his nibling. "It's the safest place."

"Of course. I am here to aid all Hunters, including this young one."

Djura tensed, now more than ever hating the fate his sister's child had been born to. "I will return as soon as I can."

\---------------------------------

When Djura returned to Old Yharnam, the fires were starting to burn down. Much of it still blazed, but in a less enthusiastic way. Men and beasts alike were still hidden in whatever corners and hide holes they were able to find- anyone who hadn't was already dead. The bodies of humans still outnumbered the corpses of the beasts in places, and the sight of it left Djura feeling decidedly ill.

He was unsurprised to discover how few of his allies remained. Most were simply gone, they told him, but some had fled and others, like Sabine, had succumbed to their poisoned blood in the chaos.

"And what of the rest of the city?" He asked, hoping for a tiny flash of hope.

His old friend shook his head. "We cut off all access to other parts of the city that a beast could access, but… the problem was never just here."

"Is the whole city overrun?" Djura asked, his blood going cold at the thought.

"No, nothing as bad as all that." The other man assured him. "But… Hunters are going missing, new beasts are being reported, one even within the Cathedral!"

"... Who was it?" He asked dully. "Not Amelia?"

His friend shook his head, eyes sympathetic for his concern for his sister’s dearest friend. "No. She is safe, I'm told. There's talk… that it might have been Laurence."

Djura was silent for a long moment. "We're all already damned, aren't we?"

His friend did not respond, but Djura knew he likely agreed.

He left his friend behind, ostensibly to look at the perimeter that had been established. What he needed more than anything, though, was time to think.

What more could be done for a city where the holiest of men and the most wretched nonbelievers were all equally doomed? He was reminded vividly of the tales of lost Loran. A city destroyed by its own hubris, thinking it could connect with the gods themselves and struck down for it.

He had not seen what was in the chamber beneath the Choir's stronghold or within the halls of the School of Mensis, but he had heard the whispers. People venturing into cursed, forgotten places, bringing back things they did not understand. Things that spelled doom to the innocent people of Yharnam.

And was he truly any different? He looked down at his arm, where he knew the Hunter's Mark was etched into his skin under his coat. What truly was the cost of the twisted immortality he’d been granted? Was it guaranteeing that he would fall to the beast plague as so many other hunters had? 

He looked around and found that in his wandering he’d come to the smouldering ruin of his sister’s home. No sign of her unfortunate husband could be seen, thankfully, but he’d know that house anywhere, he’d helped them move in and he knew it as well as his own home.

As he stared sadly at the ruins of so many happy memories, he realized that someone was staring at him. Perhaps more accurately some _ thing _ . A huge, doglike beast stood on one of the rooftops near him, staring down at him. He tensed, preparing for a fight, but it did not budge. Djura stared back at it, unnerved. He’d never seen a beast behave like this, staring peacefully at a Hunter. He wondered if perhaps this was some sort of trap, but something as large as this wouldn’t have much need for that sort of tactic for one lone Hunter. 

He started to slowly edge away, thinking perhaps its vision was bad, but it growled and jumped behind him, blocking the way out.

He stopped, hand falling to his weapon but not yet drawing it. If this thing was not actively aggressive he did not want to startle it into attacking him. He edged the opposite direction, toward the ruined house, and the beast sat down, watching him silently. It was almost as though it wanted him to go that direction.

After eyeing it for a moment, he stepped toward it. The beast laid down, tail wrapping around itself. Djura nodded politely, uncertain of what else to do, and carefully made his way into the rubble. He wasn’t sure what was happening here, but he was happy to play along rather than risk another fight. 

Only two of the outer walls remained intact, the other two reduced to timbers and piles of charred brick, and much of the furniture was more charcoal than wood. Djura would have preferred to go no further, but glancing back at the beast revealed that it was still watching him closely. He stared back at it, more curious than afraid now that he was reasonably certain it would not attack him. Something about it was familiar, even though it was a larger and stranger beast than he remembered seeing, other than-

Sabine.

Could it be that this was what was left of Sabine? Beasts had been seen to seek out the people and places they’d known as men, but never had he heard of one doing so as calmly as this. If this was his sister, she was behaving as though she wanted something from Djura. Was it even possible?

“Sabine?” He called tentatively.

The beast perked up a little, tilting its head at him in a manner that would imply curiosity from a real dog.

“What do you want? I will help you, if I can.” Djura smiled bitterly, not noticing the tears streaming from his eyes. His sister was still in there somehow, against all possible odds. The revelation hurt more than knowing that she had died a good, clean death would have, but he would do anything to help bring her some measure of peace.

In answer, the beast stood, shook itself, and started to dig in the dirt and ash of the street. He’d never seen such a normal doggy behavior from a beast, and the surprise of it meant that it took him a moment to understand. 

She was digging her husband’s grave.

Djura nodded at her. “I will find him.” He promised, then ventured further in, carefully dislodging wood and plaster that had once been the ceiling over where he had previously discovered the man's corpse. 

His memory proved true, though there was little left to identify the body. It had baked in the heat, drying out and shrivelling into a charred husk that only looked vaguely human. Djura would never have touched it at all, were it not for what seemed to be his sister’s final wish.

Grateful he wore a cloth over his nose and mouth to muffle the horrible stench of burned flesh, he bent and picked up the body, gently carrying it over the debris and through the husk of the doorway to lay gently in the hole dug by the beast that had once been Sabine.

The beast howled, an echoing, gutwrenching sound that conveyed an all too human sense of loss and regret. Djura hesitantly put a hand on her flank, hoping to comfort her. The beast sprang away, startled, to the other side of the grave, growling slightly. Whatever of her was left was not enough to allow a Hunter to touch her. Djura could respect that, even though it made him ache. He bowed to her politely and left her there to her grief.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I want out, Gehrman.” Djura insisted, staring down the older man firmly. “I can’t do this anymore. There has to be a way for both of us to get out.”

“The child…” Gehrman started, staring out the window at the Doll and Djura’s nibling playing together. “The child is complicated. You may find that the consequences of this are broader than you could imagine. And you yourself… your time as a Hunter has not been fulfilled. It’s a contract, Djura. You cannot back out whenever you like.”

“Everything has consequences.” Djura retorted. “Leaving things as they are has consequences. Walking down the damn street has consequences.”

Gehrman scowled at him. “Even so, this is not something to be done lightly. Even I cannot predict what will become of you if you do this.”

“Sabine opted for caution when you told her that about her child. That did not seem to do her much good.”

“If she’d truly opted for caution, she would not have had the child at all.” Gehrman muttered. Djura glared fiercely. The old man went on, “Fine. If you’re determined to throw both of your lives away, I would not presume to stop you. But you will not have the luxury of coming back to me for even an ‘I told you so.' I, this place, and the Doll will be lost to you forever.”

“I understand.” Djura glanced out the window and took a deep breath. “What must I do?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I understand this is to be goodbye.” The Doll told him in a quiet voice, eyes still on the child playing nearby. “I will miss them. It has been a nice change to have a child’s laughter here.”

“I’m sure they will miss you too. But I’m afraid I’d rather they remain alive  _ to _ miss you.” Djura replied with a heavy sigh.

“Of course. You must do what is best for the child. But… what will you do? The night will be long and dangerous, even for a Hunter. Perhaps especially, in fact. Will you leave with them?”

“No, I… I have a responsibility. I talked it over with a couple of the others. We failed the people of Old Yharnam. We owe them our protection, in whatever limited form we can give it.”

“You… want to protect the beasts?” The Doll asked, a hint of surprise in her otherwise neutral voice. “Why?”

“They were human once, and that has not entirely been lost to them. They cannot help their new natures, after all. If we can keep them safe without risking others, isn’t that the best option?” The pain in Djura’s voice was unmistakable, but the Doll did not comment on it.    
  
“I pray the others feel the same. I will urge them to leave you and Old Yharnam alone. I would hate for your well intentioned choice to doom you.”

Djura shook his head. “Don’t you know? Every last one of us are already doomed.”


End file.
